I do not understand why people like to play phone tag. It’s also uncannily to know that these people are doing this at their place of employment. What’s annoying about this factor is that I have no way of proving this, because I am all the way in fucking New Haven, doing what I am supposed to be doing. You know, minding my own business! While this “anonymous” person is in the jungles of Bumafucktown having an interesting day playing behind mobile devices. *inserts heavy eye roll* Yessssssssss, for the millionth frickin time! I shit you not! Every single day, there is a brand new telephone number. I mean, at least, it’s not being blocked anymore. I give HIM or HER some credit! But I’m not a retard. When I call back, all of a sudden the number is no longer in service, or I get continuous random text messages that just make no kind of sense. I don’t know what the fuck is this man’s and his woman’s issue with me, but this shit has to LITERALLY FUCKING STOP! I can not take the fuckery any longer. Now, I know that I have other ordeals going on in my life and I’m not ruling those factors out either. But if that were the case, those PIGS already have my ADDRESS! Pick me up motherfuckers. Come handle your motherfucking “BUSINESS” punks! They won’t. But for the millionth, God loving motherfucking time, I Am Not With Stupid <——. Do not let one night of foolishness, confuse the shit balls out of yourself! I am not naive or immature. “PUSH ME TO THE EDGE! All my friends are dead!” =P You people are not for me just as much as I am not for you.

November 2016 – RELEASED! …From all that was hell and misery. I left ALL OF YOU behind! I left all of you IN THERE! I didn’t call or reach out to ANY OF YOU afterwards! I no longer CARED! I stopped. And guess what? I was FINE! GREAT! BETTER! I no longer CARED! But I had obligations and a new commitment to and for myself. I was doing FINE. I was doing OK. I was doing what I was supposed to do! I was giving myself back to me. I was tired of the crying and hurt. I didn’t want it anymore. So I stayed the fuck away!*in my Wyclef Jean voice* January, February, March, April, May… I turned another year older, but I was drama and random phone call free. I ended up back on the streets again, but that was my own decision. I lost out on occupations and money, because this country thinks it should control me. It’s funny, how after I got HIS out of nowhere texts and we had, what I thought, was our FINAL phone call back in April. Shortly after, I began receiving the random/spur of the moment text messages and phone calls. But I haven’t made one complaint. I mention it then dismiss it. I’m not really angry anymore. Because I am aware of the people that I have to deal with. My only issue with this situation is, that EVERYONE has had the audacity to say that I am the craziest, stupidest, weirdest, and most dysfunctional human being on all of the planet Earth. Okay?! What is it that I have to prove to you people? Do I have to Wendy Williams my life for you? I need to show you receipts? I didn’t know I needed a tax off on my own life… But if proof is what the people need, then here is some:

Was the thirst not clarified? Let’s discuss how the universe is continuously bringing this man and/or woman into my life. Having these premonitions/dreams. And then more incoming phone calls and text messages. I swear to God and my dead father, I am no longer into someone who could never show me to my face that he really did give a fuck about me. I don’t care about someone who posts pictures with a woman he has either no romantic feelings for, and/or doesn’t really want to be with. I no longer have no interest in catering to someone who couldn’t cater to me. I have no interest in someone who has to lie to three people; her, his child, and himself. I have no interest in someone who has to continuously stalk me on social media to see what is going on in my life. Not that I care. Because I don’t care about you, at all. But for some dumb fucking reason, the universe wants me to. He is always in my dreams, to the point that I no longer want to go to sleep. To the point, that I find myself randomly feeling him next to me. Or I that I find myself going to the mall to test out his cologne. Literally.

How does one song just comprehend my struggles? I move on, but I can’t let it completely go, because it is continuously happening. Why does my past control my future? Why is everyone trying to keep me as a stagnant and miserable person? Was I more interesting that way or something? Was she easier to control? Because I don’t remember it being that way. But still I try to proceed with my progress to prosper out of the shadows of death. The weak will never understand the depths of my strength. Don’t say that you weren’t warned!

Not trying to be funny, sounding like LL Cool J, but it is true. I need love. Why is there so much fake love and real hate out there in the world? Why can’t motherfuckers be honest and real with you? You meet a person and they seem all genuine to your face. But the moment you turn your back, they’re fake as fuck! And I hate that technology gets involved in this fuckery. Texting is the most ignorant way of communicating. Never say what they mean, mean what they say, or use dumbass emojis. I will never know how a smiley face implies as direct conversation or of how you’re truly feeling. Why did it become so complicated for us to have a decent conversation today? When did it become cool to be a habitual liar? A manipulator? A sociopath? This is cool?! This is an abomination, and I want no parts of it. I want for every fuck nigga and punk ass bitch to leave me alone! I want every man to stop begging for my pussy, if you think you’re only going to get one good use of it. Believe me, it’s had EVERY dumb ass coming back, STUCK ON STUPID AS FUCK! Not that I’m broadcasting or anything. But WHAT IN THE FUCK?! There are things that I want and need and with the way the world is working, none of you are right for me. Even as a friend, I want no parts in you. I don’t need to be robbed again, of things that I’ve worked too hard for. I don’t need another knife placed in my heart. Don’t you understand, I’m already a fragile person?! Why make someone hate themselves for being themselves? Don’t kiss me, smile in my face, say & do things to make me think you want to be around, when we both know you don’t. See, my issue is that people think I don’t see the signs and road blocks. I’ve seen them loud and clear and a gazillion times from the bitch or nigga before you. Trust, I am very well caught up! And I have learned my lessons. I’m growing from those lessons. I may still have to shed tears, but these are my tears of the pain and sorrow. And don’t take them as a sign of weakness. Because no, I’m not weak! I’m still a fighter! But I’m fighting in my own way. I’m gaining my old strength back and some new strengths in my process. No one knows my internal exterior, simply because no one has ever been interested. Well one day, someone will be interested. They’re going to want to know all of the whos, whats, whys, whens, wheres, and hows… And hopefully, I will be willing to give them all of those answers. Hopefully, they’ll want me to be an open book, and read between the lines. I hope that they’ll allow me to cry, and not judge a single tear that falls down my cheek. I hope they’ll like every wrinkle in my frown, or how rosy my cheeks get when I crack a smile. Understand that we all have flaws, and that we aren’t perfect, and that we all have a past, but thinks I’m wonderful overall. I want there to be love. Let our souls connect. Our eyes to meet. And our minds to intellect. I want to believe it’s out there. But when all you’ve ever seen is hurt, rage, lies, pain, anger, deception, distraught, and disasters… Can I still believe it’s amongst me?! Is love a real thing? Or is it just another way to make a dollar?

Why is it that when you tell people you are in the position of changing yourself for the good, people have to negify it? Yeah, that’s not even a word? Lol. “You’re switching up!” Or “You’re acting funny!” But when i was already being serious and now that I’ve gotten MORE serious, you can’t seem to comprehend?! *heavy sigh* What stupid vortex dimension have I warped myself into?! And these people try to label this shit with illnesses and say that I’m the problem? No, the issue is that people are fucking idiots and lack common fucking sense. Daily. Which leads to the shallow depths of deception (i.e. alcoholism, addiction, depression, and the all more serious suicide). “Mask Off, fucking Mask Off!”

After another one of my weird dreams, I awoke with a bloody nose. The realism of it all. But i must say, I’m realizing that I am doing way better than last year. Maybe it was a reflection of my past misery? Maybe the concurring misery of it all? An ultimate downward spiral…Cocaine. Some thing I miss, at times. Not that i was ever a stone cold killer of it, nor would i let that become a real habit of mines, because it ain’t that great or anything. But i do miss the feeling of being able to further expand my mind with it. Hey, don’t knock it til you try it! *serious Uncle Sam face and finger* It isn’t for everybody. But as my nose was oozing, it just felt so familiar. If I could chug a bottle of vodka at 9:28 am, then I probably would’ve done so. Why do people drive Evalynn to want to come out? I dislike her, because she just doesn’t give a fuck! WOAH! Woosah, Jaydddde… Easier said than done! Because just yesterday I picked up my straight razor, that I usually use to shape up people’s eyebrows, and darted it right against my arm and pressed down very hard. No, I didn’t cut myself! I just made myself flinch, that’s all. But I definitely did consider it. The desperation of wanting to feel actual physical pain, instead of the pain of everything else is PRICELESS! Now, here’s my issue, with this melodramatic dream and the actions I consider driving towards. Why did I dream about something I haven’t touched in an entire year? Why did I wake up as if I did snort a couple of Quaaludes? Maybe I need to stop letting Al Pacino put me to sleep at night and watch something with Lindsay Lohan? Hmmph… Do I subconsciously want to pick back up this habit? Or is this Evalynn trying to fuck with the rest of the bitches in my head, who have been cooperative and maintaining their composure? I mean, what the fuck? Lol.

Doesn’t anyone understand that I’m slowly entering a grave and all I want is for it to end? Put me out of my misery. And yet, I’m still here! No signs of cancer. No brain tumor. Just a strong case of Diabetes and Bulimia. Thank you God. Thank you for prolonging my suffering! And thank you to those in the medical field who think medication is the answer, when it only causes more hell and fuckery down the road. My life is a prime example!

So I hung out with Mike Will Made It, not the actual producer, but that’s what I plugged him into my phone as, when I met him. He’s not even into Hip-Hop, just FYI! But when I talk to him, I know he listens. Correction…He stares and listens! And when he replies with his input, he does it without being aggressive and rude. He’s straight to the point, which is why he somewhat inspired my character Julian. Unfortunately, ‘Consequences’ is complete fiction. And I’m having a strong case of writer’s block. Because I do have the story completed on paper and finished in my head. I just feel that I need to make it more visionary. And then I feel more pressured and more stressed. But then I remember, no one really cares about who I am yet. This is just another dumb blog for me to release the stress with my vivid and imaginative vocabulary. But I want to get it out of the way to gain some exposure as a serious writer. Get published? Who knows?!

Back to the bad case of Diabetes and Bulimia, I have to take my diet seriously. My fast has begun. It’s been a while since, I have deprived myself. Maybe this will help me gain some control over my inner demons. Because let’s face it, food is another addiction! And I’m running low on weed anyways. And I hate who I am when I drink. So I am in need of a three-day cleanse. I’m going to take this weekend and think about my future actions further. I’m going to create interesting plot twists. And I’m not going to take any more bullshit from no one. “So fuck you, Debbie!“

What is the point of having good vision when life isn’t clear as day? Judgment. Isolation. Pure evil and Hell! That’s what I’ve seen.

Obsessing Him, reviewing the actions of the petty woman who birthed me, and overcoming my feelings of how I allowed myself to become a complete piece of shit. Your God created me for some completely ignorant reason. What is the lesson here? What is my purpose? Why me? I have, who I am, as a person completely figured out. I don’t need to talk to these people or that person. What is that really doing for me? So I’m talking. Okay, BIG FRICKIN DEAL! But it doesn’t stop me from feeling how I feel. It doesn’t take away what has happened. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to do what I have always felt to be right!

A disease is what The People label it. It’s not okay to feel like that. It’s not normal. Did you ever consider that it is normal for me? Think about it. I’ve been depressed since my teenage years. My first attempt at suicide was when I was thirteen. I overdosed on over-the-counter medication. Yes, cheap medication that you can buy at your local pharmacy. I was even more awkward then. Someone who kept to self and minded my own business. Sure, I had friends but I never talked about it. I tried to suck it up. I smiled and laughed at jokes. Real shit happened. But I still cried every day. I think that I just didn’t want to cry any more. Little luck did that do me! So one day, I raided the medicine cabinet and four days later I wake up in Yale with a pumped stomach and a heavy chest. Of course, I was just a beginner then. It was easy to fool people when they had no clue of who I really was. Lies, are what you suggest. But the doctors are the ones who concluded that my body just overreacted on itself. Woo hoo, I was in the clear to go for it again!

Now we are at many failed attempts. And I still have no sense of purpose. I don’t get the point or memo. Why am I still here? Why are people so quick to judge? Why can’t people have good intentions? You know, do onto others as you would do onto them. Why am I getting out of the blue phone calls instead of the friendly home visits? A real apology. Why do people get jealous and insecure? Why are guys so thirsty to the point that they have to force control upon women? And when men don’t get their way, they are quick to garnish your name all to save face? Why does everyone feel the need to be in control of every single thing? Look at who you idiots elected as your fucking president! This is the dumbest fucking country in all of the world!

How did this become normal to us? How did we allow ourselves to think that the world we live in is okay? It has it’s up and it’s downs but there are far more downs than there are ups and I am disgraced. If our ancestors saw us now, shaking my damn head. I want to use my powers for good. I want to believe we can make it a better place. As of now, I must start with me. Is that Selfish? There are just some things that I’m not okay with anymore. Therefore, certain things and people will be terminated until further notice. I’m doing what the fuck I want. I’m being myself for me. Because I know that overall I won’t be for you. Not that I really would want to.